It finally happened. I settled myself down for a long winter's nap and what to my wondering subconscious should appear but the shivering and saintly image of:
canigetadrumrollplease?
jessicapierce's navel
thankyouverymuch
I'm not exactly sure why it chose tonight of all nights to show up. It's had many days since the picture was on her
homenode and plenty of more reasonable opportunities:
erotic dreams,
belly dancing sequences,
mental pillow fights. But tonight, as I drift into the sinewy sea of slumber on my couch while trying to fend off the wooziness of a strange and sudden sickness, the navel appears, hovering, the star of a surreal
diorama, each tiny hair waving in a cosmic breeze, each tiny hair conducting its own symphony.
And as I'm staring at this nebulous navel, I realize that I am just a consciousness looking for a body, and that the better half of existence is in dreaming.
The phone wakes me up. I still want to believe the foggy promises I've made to myself.